


Life's a Ball of Yarn

by Triangulum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kitten!Stiles, M/M, Stiles gets turned into a kitten, because witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9633059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: "He's so cute!" Erica coos, reaching out to scratch the fluffy calico kitten in front of her.The only problem is that kitten is Stiles and he doesn't want Erica's fingers anywhere near him. He hisses and when her hand keeps on coming, he sinks his teeth into it. Erica howls and shakes her hand, making Stiles fly off and skid across the loft floor."I think he might not want to be touched," Peter drawls."He let you hold him," Erica grumbles."I didn't lunge at an animal the size of a potato with my nails out," Peter points out, and YEAH.OrAnother fic where Stiles gets turned into a kitten.





	

"He's so cute!" Erica coos, reaching out to scratch the fluffy calico kitten in front of her.

The only problem is that kitten is Stiles and he doesn't want Erica's fingers anywhere near him. He hisses and when her hand keeps on coming, he sinks his teeth into it. Erica howls and shakes her hand, making Stiles fly off and skid across the loft floor. Erica snarls and turns glowing eyes to him and the fight or flight instincts tell him that he won't win against the angry monster that wants him dead. Still struggling to get used to four stubby legs (fuck witches, seriously), Stiles scrambles behind the closest pair of legs and tries to stop shaking.

"I think he might not want to be touched," Peter drawls and oh, that's who Stiles is behind. 

"He let you hold him," Erica grumbles.

"I didn't lunge at an animal the size of a potato with my nails out," Peter points out, and _yeah_.

Erica grumbles but backs off. Peter turns and squats in front of Stiles. He lets his hand drop in front of Stiles' nose. He waits until Stiles sniffs, then headbutts his hand, to run with fingers down Stiles' back. Stiles arches into the touch (fuck you, cat instincts, okay?) and lets Peter pick him up. He easily fits in one of Peter's large hands and snuggles against the man's soft shirt.

"Is he _purring?_ " Isaac asks.

Stiles stiffens and immediately stops whatever stupid noise he was making. Peter runs a soothing hand down his back and glares at Isaac.

"More importantly, who's he going to stay with since his dad is out of town?" Derek asks.

"Me," Scott says immediately. God bless Scott, but Stiles knows it won't happen because - 

"Isn't your mom allergic to cats?" Allison asks.

"Oh yeah," Scott says, deflating slightly. "Sorry buddy."

"We could cage him up at Deaton's," Jackson says nastily. "Let him share a litterbox with all the other strays."

Stiles hisses because fuck Jackson, but then his words start sinking in. Oh god, he's going to have to use a litterbox and eat cat food and shit, fuck...Peter must sense his panic because he starts scratching behind his ears, which helps, but he's still working his way toward full panic mode. At first it had been a little funny that he'd been cursed to be a cat. He knows this spell, it will wear off in a few days, but now...There's a high, keening noise coming from his throat that he can't seem to stop.

"I'll take him," Peter says. He gently grasps the back of Stiles' neck and he instantly relaxes, which is stupid because it's Peter and nothing about him should be relaxing. But Stiles knows Peter has had cats before and he knows Peter's secretly an animal lover (they have lot of time to talk when they're constantly left behind together, okay?). Plus, no one else is volunteering, which, rude. Stiles was cured trying to save all their asses, but whatever.

"Fine," Scott says reluctantly. "But if anything happens to him, if he's hurt at all..."

"I'll earn the wrath of the true alpha, I'm well aware," Peter says.

"Let's get food, I'm starving," Jackson says, apparently bored of all the Stiles kitten drama.

Stiles makes sure to pee on Jackson's sweater and claw up Isaac's scarf before he and Peter leave.

After a quick stop at the pet store, Peter drives them back to his condo. Peter lets Stiles explore (everything looks way weirder than normal from the ground) while he sets up the litterbox. He'd casually dropped a sparkly ball and ribbon toy that Stiles had been eyeing in the store, and Stiles is still batting at it with his little paws when Peter comes back into the living room.

"Having fun?" Peter asks.

Stiles doesn't dignify that with an answer, too busy with the shiny toy, which Peter snatches up. Stiles whines, which comes out as a pathetic little mewl, but he doesn't care. Peter dangles it in front of Stiles, who leaps at it, missing spectacularly but still managing to land on his paws. He pounces again, trying to catch the sparkling ribbon, but Peter with those damn werewolf reflexes is good at keeping it just out of Stiles' range. Stiles is about to just sink his teeth in Peter's hand when the man drops the toy onto Stiles' nose, making him sneeze. He glares up at Peter, who just looks completely unrepentant. 

"You'll be happy with me later. I bought you catnip," Peter says.

Stiles tilts his head to the side, sure that catnip isn't going to make much of a difference, then the possibilities hit him. He can get stoned as a cat. Kittens can't giggle, so the sound Stiles makes is more like a coughing, but Peter seems to get the idea and smirks. 

Luckily, being turned into a kitten has given Stiles kitten taste buds, because if not, Peter was going to get seriously clawed up for dumping wet, sloppy cat food in front of Stiles. At least he put it on a plate and set it on the table instead of making Stiles suffer the indignity of eating on the floor out of a can. The chicken isn't bad, though thinking too much about him liking cat food is making Stiles’ stomach churn. He focuses on just eating and not on what the pack would say if they could see him now.

Stiles as a kitten seems to have the same attention span as human Stiles, so once he's done digesting (he may or may not have nodded off in Peter's arms while the man read, no one will ever know), he's back to playing with his toy, which devolves into playing with Peter's shoelaces, and ends up with him pouncing on Peter's hand while the older man skitters it around for Stiles to chase. 

Stiles has a moment of crisis when Peter is getting ready for bed. The couch is plenty comfortable, with lots of fluffy cushions and a soft blanket. But Peter's bed smells like Peter, like safety and comfort (which Stiles tries not to dwell on for too long). Stiles is torn, sitting in Peter's doorway, unsure if he should walk in. Peter hadn't specifically said not to, but this is Peter's home, his den. As far as Stiles knows, he's the only one other than Derek who ever knows where it is, and he doesn't want to push his luck too much today, not when he’s in such a vulnerable form.

Peter comes out of the master bathroom with just sleep pants on and raises his eyebrow at where Stiles is standing awkwardly (as awkwardly as possible for a kitten) in the doorway. Stiles meows plaintively, but Peter still just looks at him. Dejected, and a bit embarrassed for even thinking Peter would let Stiles the fluffy shedding kitten near his bed, he turns to make his way back to the living room. There's a really soft blue blanket that he's been dying to curl up in anyway, it'll be fine. 

There's a long-suffering sigh behind him and the vibration of steps, then Peter's picking up Stiles, holding his small body to his bare chest. Peter sets him on the bed before turning off the light and sliding under the blankets. Stiles paws at the bedding a few times before he decides it's perfect and curls up, right next to Peter's pillow.

"If you claw me in your sleep, you're sleeping in the bath tub," Peter warns.

Stiles gives a sleepy meow before closing his eyes and drifting off.

Stiles wakes up warm and cozy, tucked against the back of Peter's neck. Normally, once he's up, he's up for the day, but right now he's surrounded by Peter's scent and lying in a warm sunbeam and he can't find it in himself to move. He curls tighter and nuzzles against Peter's neck, letting the fuzziness pull him back under.

When he wakes up next time, it's from being moved. He meows in confusion but doesn't put up a fight as Peter picks him up and sets him down on the ground. Stiles, feeling sleepy and cuddly, winds around Peter's ankles, making the man stumble a bit. Peter glares down at him.

"I'm trying to make the bed, you menace," Peter says.

Stiles just meows. 

Peter feeds Stiles just as he had before, on the table with an actual plate. Peter reads some more, lying on the couch with Stiles curled up in the space between his neck and his shoulder. When Stiles has to use the litter box, Peter only teases him a little bit while he cleans it. Stiles hides under the couch for an hour after until Peter just sticks his hand under there, ignoring the way Stiles' tiny needle-like claws dig into his skin, and pulls the kitten out. He lies back down to the couch and presses Stiles to his chest, humming and stroking a hand down Stiles' back until he finally gives in and naps.

There's a pack meeting that night ('meeting' meaning movie night and teenage cuddle fest) and Peter lives to make the pack uncomfortable, so they go. Stiles secretly thinks that Peter just misses having a pack around so even if it's one full of teenagers he claims to hate, he takes what he can get. It makes Stiles sad thinking about it on the drive over, so he tries to crawl over the gear shift and cuddle up into Peter's lap. Peter firmly puts him back into his seat and keeps a hand covering Stiles' small body.

"You're going to get hurt climbing around a moving car," Peter says, but Stiles doesn't miss the way Peter's fingers twitch a bit before he gives in and starts petting Stiles. Actually, since he's been cursed, Peter's been touching him a lot. Stiles presses into the touch, completely shameless.

When Peter stops the car, Stiles scrambles up Peter's arm, little claws digging in a little harder than he means to, and perches on Peter's shoulder, his tail wrapped around Peter's thick neck as much as possible. Peter sighs dramatically but keeps a hand braced behind Stiles so he doesn't fall off on the walk up the stairs. The looks on everyone's faces when Peter shows up with Stiles wrapped around his shoulders like his own fluffy scarf are so worth it. 

They watch Guardians of the Galaxy, which Stiles is stoked about, but Peter refuses to let him have candy or popcorn, not sure what it would do to Stiles' system. Stiles pouts but Peter rifles in his pocket and brings out a small bag, shaking it under Stiles' nose.

"I brought you catnip treats," Peter says. Stiles immediately mewls loudly and repeatedly, getting louder and louder in excitement. Peter chuckles and opens the bag, lifting a treat up to Stiles' mouth. Stiles delicately takes it with his sharp teeth and eats it quickly, batting at Peter's nose for another. Peter rolls his eyes but feeds Stiles another treat.

"Dude..." Scott says, eyes wide as he stares. 

Stiles blinks back at him. What? Stiles bats at Peter's nose again, but Peter catches his paw and plays with the pads of his toes, making Stiles squirm.

"You'll make yourself sick. I'll give you another one later," Peter says.

The pack is looking at them with various states of disbelief. Whether it be at Peter hand feeding Stiles or letting Stiles sit on his shoulder, Stiles isn't sure, but the looks are giving him life. He has probably less than a day left as a cat, he's going to enjoy it, damn it.

It turns out that Peter was right in only giving him the two catnip treats. They hit him pretty quickly and suddenly Stiles is sliding down from Peter's shoulder to his chest and into his lap. He wiggles from side to side, rubbing his body over Peter's thighs because everything feels good and awesome and wow, he's high as a kite. 

"Did you get Stiles stoned?" Erica asks delightedly. 

"Maybe," Peter says. Stiles stretches in his lap, clawing at the air. "Yes."

"Can I pet him yet?" Erica asks. 

Stiles growls as best he can as a stoned kitten and Erica pouts and mutters about Stiles' blatant favoritism. Peter just preens and scratches Stiles' fluffy belly.

The movie is almost over, as is Stiles' kitty high, when he feels an odd tingling in his limbs. He goes stiff in Peter's lap, making the man's hand pause where it had been scratching behind his ears. It's the same tingling as he'd felt when the witch had hit him with the curse. Shit, shit he was about to turn back. He was about to turn into a very naked human in Peter Hale's lap. 

Stiles scrambles off Peter's lap, his claws momentarily getting caught on the couch before shooting under the closest chair, then realizing nope, if a few moments, that chair isn't going to hide shit. He frantically dashes around the living room, ignoring everyone asking what's wrong and trying to catch him. He finally sees Derek's favorite blanket sitting in the corner of the couch and makes a mad dash for it, burrowing into the material seconds before the tingling takes over his entire body. 

There are a few seconds of feeling like his body is being squeezed through a straw, then with a loud pop, Stiles' human body is back. He flails, wrapped in the blanket, before he's able to pop his head out. The pack is looking at him with expressions ranging from shock (Scott) to glee (Erica). Peter just looks amused and Derek looks constipated, like the fact that Stiles' dick is touching the fabric of his favorite blanket is offending his very core.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, Stiles says, "Derek, some pants please? Like, now?"

Derek seems to shake himself awake and jumps up and running to his room, returning a few seconds later with a change of clothes for Stiles. Stiles wraps himself up in the blanket as best he can, sacrificing all dignity in the process, and trips his way to the bathroom to get dressed. Derek's clothes are a lot bigger than what he usually wears, but whatever, he's covered so that's totally fine.

It hits Stiles there, in the middle of Derek's bathroom, that he's basically spent two days in Peter's lap. He groans and buries his face in his hands. The first time he sleeps in Peter's bed and it's not even because he's seduced the other man, damn it. He takes a few minutes to wash his face and wow, he really needs a shower, before leaving the sanctuary of the bathroom. 

"All right, well that was fun, I never want to be furry ever again," Stiles says, though really, he's over exaggerating. He'd basically had a nap and play-filled vacation, "and I'm going to go home and shower until I know longer smell like a cat." That is true. His human body shouldn't smell like it bathed in kitty spit. He glances over at Peter on his way out to see the man smirking. Peter gives him a two-finger wave that Stiles vaguely returns before disappearing out the front door.

Stiles contemplates his time as Peter's cat for the next few days. Peter, cranky, potentially evil (who knows?) Peter is such a cat person. He played with Stiles, he let Stiles sleep in his bed, he fed Stiles the good cat food. God, there's no reason Stiles should be crushing on Peter based on how he was treated as a kitten. Jesus Christ.

The solution comes from Scott, surprisingly. Deaton's is overflowing with animals needing to be adopted out and it just so happens that there's a beautiful tawny cat with bright blue eyes, eyes disturbingly similar to Peter's, that needs a home. Scott says that people have been passing it by for all the kittens that Deaton has, but this small little cat's sad eyes tug at Stiles and he's instantly in love. It doesn't matter that Deaton says she has a bit of an attitude or that she isn't 'the most loving cat'. Her name is Pancake and she and Stiles immediately bond. 

Stiles finishes all the paperwork and pays the adoption fee (Deaton just looks happy Pancake is finally gone). Pancake isn't thrilled to be in a cat carrier, but she doesn't make too much noise as Stiles sets her in the front seat and makes the short drive to Peter's building. He's not sure what Peter's going to do, honestly. Probably kick him out, but he might as well try. He takes Pancake out of the carrier and just holds her for the elevator ride, not wanting her to be more stressed than necessary. 

When he gets to Peter's front door, Stiles knocks with his knee (his hands are full of cat, okay?) and waits patiently until he hears the lock turn and Peter opens the front door. Stiles' heart tightens as it tends to around Peter, because damn the man looks good. More than that, when he's home and he's barefoot and relaxed, it tugs at Stiles' heartstrings. 

Peter looks critically at Pancake and says, "Please tell me that isn't Derek."

"What? No! This is Pancake!"

"Pancake," Peter says flatly. He looks less than impressed. Stiles huffs and shoves Pancake into Peter's arms.

"Yes. Pancake is two, and apparently a bit of a diva but I figured since it's you, you're used to that," Stiles says. "The adoption paperwork is all filled out and she micro-chipped and she's been fixed so you'll have no little baby Pancakes running around, and- "

"Stiles," Peter interrupts, looking down at the armful of cat. "Why are you giving me a cat? No, scratch that, why are you forcing a cat on me?"

"Because I saw how good you are with cats when I _was_ a cat and I figured you need something happy in your life and Pancake is like, the best cat," Stiles says.

"How good I am with cats?" Peter repeats.

"Yeah! Like the playing and the feeding the good food and letting the kitten, er, me, sleep in your bed even though I probably got fluff everywhere," Stiles says. "You're like the best kitty dad ever."

"Stiles," Peter says, like he's being purposefully difficult. "That had nothing to do with you being a cat."

"Then what did it have to do with?" Stiles asks.

"That it was you, dumbass," Peter says.

"Oh," Stiles says, shocked. He can't help the pleased smile that takes over his face.

"Yeah, oh," Peter says with an eye roll. 

He sets the cat down (Pancake immediately wanders deeper into Peter's apartment) and pulls Stiles in, cupping his face in his hands and pressing the softest kiss to his lips. Stiles grins into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Peter and pulling him in closer.

Peter keeps Pancake.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com) or my [ main blog](http://www.femmmefatalist.tumblr.com).


End file.
